


Academic Proposals

by Sixthlight



Series: Not A Coffeeshop AU [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Academia, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, but it's ENTIRELY unintentional, cameos from Quynh and Merrick, technically this is a coffee shop AU I have realised?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/pseuds/Sixthlight
Summary: Joe and Nicky discuss flats, what constitutes astupidamount of money, and the appropriate level of drama in a marriage proposal.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Not A Coffeeshop AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963975
Comments: 42
Kudos: 817





	Academic Proposals

“No, I’m a nurse,” Nicky said for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening. “No, before you ask, I have not thought about studying to become a doctor. It is a very different kind of job.”

“It’s amazing, you know, Vijay,” Joe said. “Some people manage to leave higher education and never go back.”

“Right, of course,” Joe’s colleague Vijay said, and laughed, but didn’t sound totally convinced. Neither had any of the other lecturers Nicky had talked to this evening.

“Seriously,” Nicky said to Joe in Italian, as they moved away. “Does _everybody_ here think that you have to be a doctor – either sort – to go on with your life?”

“Well, if they admitted you did not, they might start to reconsider their own life choices, including the terrible pay and hideous uncertainty,” said Joe.

“The pay can’t be that terrible,” Nicky said. “You own your flat. In _London_.” Admittedly it was very small and the ‘home office’ was about the size of a large wardrobe, but it was a whole flat. In London. Without a two-hour commute. Nicky was thirty and still sharing a flat with five other people, although these days he was usually only there the weeks he had night shifts.

“Yes, uh,” Joe said, sounding a little guilty, “can we talk about that later?”

“If you like.” They’d been dating for long enough now that Nicky could recognise Joe’s avoidance face.

“Enjoying your first university fundraiser?” Quỳnh asked him as they came over to where she was standing. Nicky hadn’t actually realised that she lectured part-time at the same university as Joe. Andy had laughed and said they made three times as much money from Labrys, anyway. This added a lot of credence to what Joe had just said about the terrible pay. Nicky didn't think the café was _that_ profitable. 

“I’ve never been arm candy before,” Nicky said. “It’s fun when they’re not asking me when I am going to go back to university.”

Quỳnh nodded. “That’s why Andy takes her motorbike and goes somewhere far away every time I try and get her to come to these things.” She looked around. “Joe, where’s Booker?”

“His wife has evening lectures on the other side of the city,” said Joe. “Two-body problem, plus children.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have that,” Quỳnh said, gesturing to Joe and Nicky.

“Two-body problem?” Nicky asked.

“Two people, both trying to be academics,” Joe said. “It gets complicated very quickly when you consider the job market.” He didn’t say anything about the children part, which Nicky was simultaneously relieved and anxious about. They’d circled the topic a little, but he didn’t feel ready to discuss it with Quỳnh.

A blonde woman in a high-necked blue dress appeared next to Quỳnh. Her face was professionally calm, but she was clutching her champagne glass anxiously. Nicky saw a lot of people trying to be calm in his job; it wasn’t hard to spot.

“Joe, we need to talk,” she said, in what might have been a Romanian accent, but overlaid with years in the UK. “Wait – who are you?”

“Meta,” Joe greeted her, his voice friendly but not enthusiastic. “This is Nicky. We, uh, reconnected a few months ago. I think you’ll remember.”

“Ohhhhh,” Meta said, examining Nicky with frank curiosity. “Oh, that makes a lot more sense.”

“Thank you,” Nicky said. “I think.”

She looked guilty, but didn’t actually apologise. “Anyway, that just makes it worse. Steven is here.”

“The short, ratty-looking guy with the weird hoodie thing?” Quỳnh asked.

“I wouldn’t necessarily – oh shit,” said Meta, the last bit under her breath, looking over Nicky’s shoulder. Nicky did not look around.

“I am amazed,” said the Englishman from Joe’s blind date from hell, “that you’re showing your face here.”

Nicky counted to three and turned around, slowly. So did Joe, who spoke first. “It’s a university fundraiser, Steven. I work at the university. What brings _you_ here?”

“I may or may not be giving money to the university,” Steven said, drawing himself up to his full height. The hoodie-blazer thing looked _absolutely_ ridiculous, and spoke more than anything else of a man who believed with all his heart that he was so important he could do as he liked. “Which I would have thought would be obvious, since you accepted a date with me like some sort of – of _gold-digger –_ ”

Meta winced. Joe laughed; not a full laugh, a short noise of amusement. Steven’s face darkened.

Joe pushed his foot against Nicky’s, hard, a signal that he wanted Nicky to let him work; Nicky pushed back, to say that he would.

“Steven,” Joe said, his face becoming kind, even a little apologetic. “I promise, I didn’t know anything about you when we went on that date; Meta told me almost nothing, except good things about you as a person.”

“That’s right!” Meta said hastily. “Nothing. Except good things.”

“And I’m glad to see you here tonight,” Joe went on, “because I wanted to thank you.”

“You _what_?”

“For being so gracious,” Joe said. “I put you in a very uncomfortable situation, and you were very polite about it. And if you hadn’t gone on that date with me, I might never have met my Nicky again, and – well, the thing is, we’re getting married next summer. And that’s all down to you. I am, truly, so grateful.”

Nicky managed to keep a straight face at _we’re getting married next summer_ , but it was a near thing. He covered it by shooting Joe a look of adoration, perhaps a _little_ over the top, but he had to contribute something here. It was amazing to watch the battling emotions on Steven’s face; outrage warring with smugness. Because of course he thought of himself as a polite, gracious man.

“I…suppose…you’re welcome,” he said, with a tight smile. “Just don’t invite me to the wedding!”

They all laughed; Joe managed to make it sound sincere. Meta sounded mildly hysterical. Nicky wasn’t sure how he sounded. 

“That’s so lovely!” Meta said. “Now, Steven, I know you wanted to talk to the Vice-Chancellor and I’ve just spotted him over there –” She guided him away, still talking.

“So,” Quỳnh said, slinging an arm over each of their shoulders. “When’s the big date?”

“Play along, Quỳnh,” Nicky said, in Italian; Steven might look around at any minute.

“If Andy wants to be your best woman,” she said to Nicky, “remember that I asked first.”

“I’ll consider it,” Nicky said. She laughed and let them go. “Joe, weren’t you going to show me your office at some point?”

“There’s really not much to – yes, yes I was,” Joe said, catching Nicky’s eyes finally. “Come with me.”

*

As soon as the door of Joe’s office was shut, Nicky pushed him up against it and licked into his mouth, hungrily. They were both in black tie and they _would_ have to go back to the fundraiser, so he held Joe by the shoulders and angled his body away. Joe whimpered against his mouth. It was much, _much_ sexier than the peeling paint on the door should have allowed it to be.

“I need you to know two things,” Joe said, panting, as they broke the kiss, “which are that I have a number of _very_ detailed fantasies involving you and the desk in this office, and also that we can’t carry out any of them because I have to sit behind it and talk to crying students. But there’s always the desk at home.”

“There’s barely room for your laptop on that desk, let alone anything else.”

“There goes another fantasy,” Joe said mournfully, and lowered his eyes to Nicky’s mouth, not fighting the hands on his shoulders. Nicky took the cue and kissed him again, until he was hard and breathless and they had to stop – now.

He took two steps back, hit the desk because the office was _not_ large, and gripped the edge of it. Joe was still up against the door, eyes dark. Nicky mentally planned the order in which he was going to strip his clothes off him when they got home.

“I hope this doesn’t sound weird,” he said out loud, “but the way you took the ground out from under him like that – that was _very_ sexy. And I respect it from a professional perspective, too, we get a lot of upset people in A&E. But…also very sexy.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Joe said, looking smug.

“Laughing at him when he called you a gold-digger – also very sexy.” Nicky raised his eyebrows. “But I don’t think we can get married next summer if you’re keeping secrets from me.”

“It’s not a _secret_ ,” said Joe, who had left the door to sprawl loose-limbed into one of the two chairs on this side of the desk. “My family helped me with the flat. That’s not…Steven Merrick money. It’s not _orders of magnitude_ close to that. Steven has stupid, individual humans should not have access to it amounts of money. Which I did not know when Meta set up that date because I didn’t know who he _was_. But I would not date him for his money even if I _had_ known about it.”

“Owning a flat in London _is_ stupid amounts of money as far as I’m concerned, but on the other hand I have met your family and they were all perfectly nice and normal, so I will forgive you for it.”

“You have,” Joe acknowledged. He put his hands behind his head and smiled at Nicky. “They like you too, you know.”

“I know. Your sister added me to the family Facebook Messenger group.”

“And you didn’t immediately dump me, for which I am truly grateful.”

Nicky waved a hand. He liked seeing this, Joe in his office; it was crowded with books and art and an improbably lively set of plants, on the windowsill, improbable because the window had an outstanding view of another part of the building, less than two metres away, and Nicky doubted they got any direct sun except maybe at the height of summer. There was a teapot on top of a filing cabinet. The office felt something like, Nicky imagined, being in Joe’s head might feel like.

“We, uh,” Joe said, scratching the back of his head. “We should get married, though.”

Nicky laughed. “Right now, huh?”

“No,” Joe said. “Next summer. Or, or longer. Or sooner. Or, no, it can’t be sooner, because my family…I think you can imagine.”

“I am Italian _and_ Catholic. It _certainly_ cannot be sooner.” Nicky grinned at him. “We would need at least that long.”

“Yeah, uh,” Joe said. “Really, though.”

That was unexpected; Nicky blinked at him.

Joe put a hand over his face. “Shit. I wanted to…I don’t know. I thought you wouldn’t want a big dramatic proposal. I was working out how to ask you what you wanted. I wasn’t going to – uh, here. When we have to go back in the next two minutes or Quỳnh will imply to everybody that we are doing all those things on my desk that we are _not_ going to do.”

“I don’t. I wouldn’t. Want that, without knowing.” Nicky clarified, when Joe’s eyes started to go wide at his first words. “But this…this room feels like you. It’s not a bad place to ask a question like that.” He went over and knelt in front of Joe, putting his hands on Joe’s lap. “You know what, though? You should do one, at Labrys. Everybody else will love it. And I would enjoy seeing them loving it. But only if that’s something you would enjoy.”

“Oh, I think we could have fun with that,” Joe said, taking Nicky’s hands. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Nicky said, and said it again in all the languages they spoke to each other. Joe grinned wider and wider. “Yes. Yes. _Yes._ ”


End file.
